Read Face the Winter Naked Online
Authors: Bonnie Turner
Face the Winter Naked (35 page)
Cordell knelt and took Jean-Paul’s shoulders. “Jean-Paul, son,
look at me!” At that moment, Cordell saw Jean-Paul’s parka move. “Eh? What have
you got in there?”
“This little old pup…” Jean-Paul whispered. “This here little pup
got away. And—and I had to go find her.”
The awful lie was out.
Jean-Paul tried to struggle away from his father, but Cordell held
tightly to one shoulder. With the other hand, he unfastened his son’s parka and
looked down at the ball of silvery fur that poked a fuzzy head out.
Cordell stared at the animal for a moment without speaking. He
reached down and scratched a soft little ear. He looked back at Jean-Paul. “The
runt, eh?” Cordell released Jean-Paul’s shoulder and scratched his beard
thoughtfully. “Son, you know the money from this pup would have brought us a
meal for some cold, dark night.”
“But she was running away, Pa! And you said yourself she won’t
make a good sled dog. You said she’s too small. You said so!”
Jean-Paul set the squirming pup on the ground, and she promptly
made a yellow, wet spot in the snow. He picked her up again before she could
wander off, cuddling her beneath his chin.
Cordell rose and put an arm around Jean-Paul. He led him to the
freight sled, which was already loaded with supplies from the trading post. “I
suspect that pup never ran away,” Cordell said. “I think you wanted to keep her
for a pet, eh?”
“Yes, sir.” Jean-Paul was relieved. It hadn’t been as bad as he
had thought it would be. Still, he felt awful about the lie. It wasn’t much fun
having your stomach churn, and waiting in fear for someone to find out. Now it
was over.
Cordell looked sternly at Jean-Paul as he settled him onto the
sled with the pup in his lap. “There’s not much we can do about it now, eh? I
suppose you heard the plane take off.”
“Yes, sir, I heard something.”
“I suppose you planned it that way.”
Jean-Paul was tired of lying. He crossed his fingers and said
quietly, “Yes, I did that, Pa. I’m sorry.”
The sledge was fully loaded, with barely enough room for
Jean-Paul. Cordell tucked the robe around the boy’s shoulders. “You’ve got a
pup for the winter,” he said. “But when the traders return next spring, she’ll
have to go.”
Jean-Paul nodded, clutching the pup tightly against his chest.
Cordell checked the traces running from the sled to the dog team.
Then he went to the back of the sled and picked up his long leather whip. With
a flip of his wrist, he cracked it sharply overhead. The whip unfurled and flew
through the cold air, touching down just inches from Tork’s nose.
The zing of the whip brought Tork to his feet with a joyful yelp.
He threw back his great black head and howled, then turned to look at Cordell
and Jean-Paul with what appeared to be a nice, wide smile on his muzzle. Dozing
one moment, he was now wide awake. The whip meant work, and work was what Tork
knew best. Siko and Lishta also sprang to their feet to dance around in the
snow. They, too, raised their voices to the wind, impatient to be off. Cordell
snapped the whip again. “
Hah
!
Hah
! Go, you huskies!”
The powerful dogs leaped out ahead of their harnesses, straining
against their breast bands. The sled began moving, slowly at first, then faster
and faster on the slick runners that Cordell had iced earlier that morning.
After the first hard jolt, which nearly threw him off the sled,
Jean-Paul leaned back to enjoy the ride. As Cordell pushed off, the sled gave
way to a speeding ride over slippery, well-worn trails that wound through the
main street of Aklavik, past the hospital, the trading post, the boarding
house. Soon, it headed into open country, away from the tree line and the three
large branches of the Mackenzie River. Traveling westward, the sound of runners
slishing over snow was the only sound heard in the vast, frozen quiet. Once in
a while, Cordell whistled or yelled at the team. Sometimes he ran beside the
sled. Other times he rode on the back so he could operate the hand brake.
Those were sounds Jean-Paul loved to hear. One day, unless his
lameness prevented it, he, too, would be captain of his own team and run behind
a sled.
Now, the pup tried to free herself, twisting her pointed ears
sideways like small radio antennae, to listen. She whined.
“You’d like to run with them!” Jean-Paul laughed. “It’s in your
blood to run!” He rubbed a silky ear as he spoke. The pup looked into his face,
her pale blue eyes alert and intelligent. Jean-Paul hugged her closely as
darkness fell.
Strange dark shapes of snow banks and drifts slid past on each
side. Ahead lay endless miles of untamed land, broken only by occasional sledge
tracks. Stretching as far as the eye could see, toward Yukon Territory, were
mounds of crusty snow that reminded Jean-Paul of frosted peaks on a birthday
cake.
Night brought a loneliness that only those living near the top of
the world can know. The snow had stopped falling. The air was crisp and clear.
There was a closed-in feeling beneath a black dome of sky, as though someone
had turned a bowl of stars upside down.
Up ahead lay an enormous igloo that had suddenly appeared one day.
Jean-Paul didn’t know who had built it.
“It’s haunted by an old man and six wolves,” Chinook had said one
day in school. “He builds it every year, but no one has ever seen him.”
“Then how do you know he’s there,” Jean-Paul had asked Chinook,
“if no one has ever seen him?”
“We just do,” Chinook replied. “It’s something you have to
believe—if you want to keep your head.” He zipped a finger across his throat
like a knife. “They say the wolves are two-hundred pounds each, with bloody
fangs six inches long.”
“You’re just trying to scare me!” Jean-Paul had said. As far as he
knew, there were no wolves that big.
And Nanuk had said, “Sometimes you can hear those ghost wolves
howling!
Owoooo-o-o-o
! But you’re too scared to go in there, Jean-Paul
Okalerk
!”
Well, that part was true. But Jean-Paul had answered, “I’m no more
scared than you guys are!”
Sometimes, while passing the igloo on a bitterly cold and windy
night with his father, Jean-Paul thought he really could hear those wolves
howling. If only he were as brave as the other boys!
Now, as Cordell’s team raced by the haunted igloo, a wolf howl
filled the night air.
Owoo-o-o-o
. On a clear night above the Arctic
Circle, sound travels for many miles. Tork, Siko, and Lishta took up the cry
till they were well past the haunted igloo. But this night Jean-Paul did not
feel lonely or afraid. His father was in command, and he was too happy to
worry. He snuggled inside the warm polar bear robe and whispered to the pup.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let them take you when spring comes. By that
time you’ll be pulling in harness as well as your mother.”
Jean-Paul yawned and glanced up at the sky just in time to see the
silvery trail of a star disappear over the horizon. Last night he had seen the
dancing green phantoms of the Northern Lights, flashing and shifting
mysteriously in the night sky. The two coming one after the other could be a
good sign.
(Continued)
Spirit Lights (sequel to
The
Haunted Igloo)
A
coming-of-age novel for fans of Gary Paulsen, Scott O'Dell & Jack London.
Returning to the Arctic after a two-year absence, 12-year-old Jean-Paul has
overcome his fear of the dark, but discovers his best Inuit friend is terrified
of the Northern Lights. One frigid night, after searching by dogsled for a
crashed plane, Jean-Paul hears tinkling sounds from a bright aurora overhead.
Chinook and his girl Kunee say the spirits in the lights are speaking, warning
of danger. But Jean-Paul knows auroras can’t talk! Or can they? Polar bears,
huskies, auroras that speak—and danger in the Arctic. (Ages 9 & up)
Chapter 1
The
Snowbird banked sharply, tracking the Mackenzie River northwest toward Aklavik.
For the past hour, strong winds had pitched the small plane like a toy, forcing
the pilot to fly at a lower altitude. Soon it would have to land, before the
wind ripped off the wings. It was early November, 1936, and snow was falling in
Canada’s Northwest Territories. In a few weeks, the sun would sink below the
horizon, not to reappear until next January.
Jean-Paul
wondered if they were north of the Arctic Circle yet. He knew there were
mountains below, but he couldn’t see them through the fogged-over window. The
plane bounced and rattled so much in the wind that he imagined it was falling
apart, and when a stronger jolt came, he grabbed his lap belt and looked at his
mother, sitting nearby with her eyes closed. His little brother, Pierre, had
fallen asleep on her lap. How could anyone be so calm when the plane was about
to drop out from under them? With his stomach in his mouth, Jean-Paul turned to
his father as Cordell returned from speaking with the pilot.
“I
don’t like this, Pa!” He touched the safety belt to make sure it was still
buckled. “It feels like we’re falling!”
“Try
not to worry,” Cordell said. “Jack’s used to flying in this kind of weather.
He’ll keep us safe.”
Cordell
Ardoin patted his son’s shoulder, then took a seat next to his wife. Lise
opened her eyes and looked at him.
“We’re
about to land,” he said, taking Pierre onto his lap. “Come to Papa,
sleepyhead.”
“I’ll
be glad to stand again,” Lise said. “My legs are numb!”
Pierre
struggled in his father’s strong arms. “Sit Paul!” he cried.
“You’ll
sit with Papa,” Cordell said. “The airplane’s flying down like a big bird!”
Pierre
found his father’s new pocket watch, which would likely freeze stiff after a
few days of arctic weather. It would keep him busy while they landed.
Lise
looked over at Jean-Paul. “Are you excited?” she asked.
“I’ll
bet nobody remembers me,” Jean-Paul said, “not even my own dog.”
Two
years before, he had left his husky, Sasha, with his friend Chinook when
Cordell’s job was finished and they returned to Quebec. A lot could happen in
that length of time. She could even be dead.
Jean-Paul
glanced at the window when the plane nosed downward, and waited for the skis to
touch the frozen river. At the last minute, he snapped his eyes shut. He opened
them again and took a deep breath as the Snowbird taxied to a stop and the
engine shut down.
He
unfastened his belt and started to stand, then slammed back into the seat when
a strong gust of wind lifted the tail of the plane. “I don’t like flying in
storms!” he said.
Cordell
gave Pierre back to Lise. “I’ll go see how bad it is out there.”
A
blast of wind filled the cabin when he opened the door and climbed out into the
storm. The pilot left the cockpit and followed Cordell outside.
Jean-Paul
pulled a special boot over his crooked foot. When he lived in Aklavik before,
the Inuit boys had called him
Okalerk
—arctic hare—because his walk made
them think of a rabbit. But after making friends with them he got used to the
name, even liked it. Still, his limp was the first thing people noticed about
him.
After
a few minutes, Cordell returned, stomping his size fourteen feet and shaking
snow from his parka.
“Brrr!
It’s a vicious storm!”
Lise
stuffed Pierre into his snowsuit, then pulled her mittens on. “I feel like I
left part of myself in the Arctic and I’m about to find it again.”
Cordell
nodded. “I understand what you mean. I think I gave something back to the land
that let me survive its climate.”
Lise
turned to Jean-Paul. “Coming, dear?”
Jean-Paul
grabbed his bag of books and the hard candy his grandparents had given him and
headed for the door.
Cordell
helped his family out of the plane. He took Pierre from Lise and yelled, “Head
for shelter!”
Jean-Paul
met the storm head-on. The wind whistled and swirled snow into his face. Sharp
frost granules slashed their way inside his hood, clawing at his nose, ears,
and chin. He blinked to clear his vision and plowed straight ahead.
It
wasn’t far from the runway to the control shack, but the uphill walk made the
distance seem longer. He could barely see his family slogging through the snow
ahead of him. Then a door burst open, flooding him with light and warmth.
The
boy’s spirits soared when he saw an Inuit with a large white husky by his side.
He dropped his bag on the floor and hurried across the room, calling his
friend’s name.
“Chinook!”
The
man’s husky bared its fangs, and Jean-Paul’s smile died as he realized his
mistake.
The
room swirled. Time stood still, and blood rushed to his face. He had made a
fool of himself. Eager to see his dog, he’d thrown himself at a strange husky.
Keeping
his eyes on the snarling dog, he backed away carefully and rejoined his
parents. He stared down at the puddle of snow-melt on the plank floor, then
turned his attention to the others. Dr. Jim Morgan was there with his
granddaughter, Alice, a nurse.
The
brutal climate had carved a few more lines in the old doctor’s face, but his
white hair was still thick and full. Above piercing gray eyes sprouted enough
eyebrow brush to hide four ptarmigan nests, a den of foxes, sixty lemmings, and
a grizzly bear—according to Chinook.
“Welcome
back!” Dr. Morgan held out his hand. “We’ve missed you!”
“Hello,
Dr. Morgan.” Jean-Paul shook the doctor’s hand, then turned to Alice. “Is
Chinook here?”
“I’m
afraid not,” Alice said. “But I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”
Alice’s
presence wiped out the last two years. It was like Jean-Paul had never been
away at all.
“Chinook
talked about you all the time,” Alice said. “He often helped out at the
hospital, and even spoke of becoming a doctor. But he never forgot his friend,
Okalerk
!”
“Most
Eskimos settle down to raise families,” Dr. Morgan said. “Did you know Eskimo
boys can marry at fifteen?”
Jean-Paul
shifted his eyes from one person to the other. “You must be joking, Dr. Morgan!
I don’t think Chinook would want to get married yet. He’s fifteen already, but
he’s still a kid like me.” Jean-Paul had turned twelve last March.
“No
joke,” the doctor said. “Perhaps he’ll explain it to you.”
Alice
put her arm around the boy. “Did you have a good time in Quebec?”
“I
was glad to see
Grandmère
and
Grandpère
,” Jean-Paul said, “but
they complained about us moving to Canada’s icebox.”
“Icebox!”
Alice laughed. “That’s the perfect name for this country! I’ll bet your old
friends were glad to see you.”
Jean-Paul
shook his head. “They all had new friends. Nobody wanted to hear about my
Arctic adventures!”
“It
wasn’t easy for Jean-Paul after being away so long,” Cordell said. “It took him
a while to make friends with the Eskimo kids when we lived here before. Then he
had to do it all over again with the kids in Quebec.”
Jean-Paul
peeked over his shoulder at the man with the dog. From a distance the husky
looked calm and gentle. In fact, with its tongue hanging out, it appeared to be
laughing. He had never seen an animal with different colored eyes. This dog had
a brown one and a blue one.
The
man glanced his way and smiled. In his panic a few moments before, Jean-Paul
hadn’t noticed the long scar on the Inuit’s cheek.
“I
made venison stew for supper,” Alice said. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Cordell
scooped Pierre into his arms and tickled him under the chin with his beard,
causing the child to giggle.
“I’m
so hungry I could eat a walrus,” he said, “whiskers and all!”
Alice
turned to Lise. “Come along, dear. We have spare cots at our cabin. I think
this storm’s going to blow all night, so nobody’s going anywhere until morning.
You might just as well get some rest before traveling again.”
(Continued)
